


My King

by shadowhostage (thenakednymph)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-07 00:01:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/shadowhostage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin reminds Arthur of just what it is that makes him a king.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My King

“You don’t have to keep acting like my manservant,” Arthur said, watching from a few paces away as Merlin tried to assemble something like a bed from the dry leaves and the cloak their captors had left them. “I’m not a king anymore.”

They’d both been captured during Camelot’s fall despite their best efforts and were now marching with the other prisoners to spirits knew where. Stripped of his armor and padded gambeson, Arthur was as cold as all the others, the chill of Autumn thick in the air and he shivered, crossing his arms over his chest. 

He still wore the crown they’d given him that day, crudely forged from branches in a mockery of the king he’d once been.

Merlin straightened and blinked up at him in surprise. “You really believe that?” 

Arthur shrugged and let his gaze drop to the side, sinking into the pit of leaves Merlin had collected, their knees brushing. Merlin pulled the cloak around them, hoping it would chase away the chill. 

“What is a king without a kingdom?” he asked.

Merlin glanced towards the fire when someone yelled at them to shut up and dropped his voice, scooting closer to Arthur, ducking forward until he could see Arthur’s eyes. “A king isn’t made by a crown or a throne or a kingdom,” he scolded, reaching up to reverently pull the mock crown from Arthur’s head, ruffling his hair. “I know they believe it.” He jerked his head towards the fire, setting aside the crown so they wouldn’t crush it in their sleep. “That’s why they think they can strip it from you. They believe it’s just a title.”

“And you don’t?” He hadn’t meant to sound snippy, but he was cold and sore, blisters on his feet from all the walking.

Merlin shook his head firmly. “What makes you a king is in here.” He pressed cold fingers to Arthur’s forehead, startling him. “And in here.” His hand drifted down to Arthur’s chest, lingering just over his heart. “It is your goodness; your belief in what’s right and just that makes you a king. It is you sense of honor.” 

His voice was quiet and passionate in a way Arthur had never heard it. “You inspire everyone you meet. You bring out the best in them and you make them believe.” Merlin’s eyes were fierce and pleading in the dark, willing Arthur to understand. “You have always been a king,” he whispered. “And they can never take that away from you.”

Arthur started at Merlin like he was seeing him for the first time, his eyes searching the shadows of his face as if looking for answers. “I never knew you felt that way,” he finally said, his voice just as soft. 

Instead of making a joke like Arthur had expected Merlin nodded gravely. “Always.” Arthur’s heart thumped at the way he said it, like it was obvious. “And I’m not leaving you, no matter what happens.” 

He smiled at Arthur in the dark and relaxed into the leaves, lying down and shifting his weight, trying to get comfortable. After a moment Arthur lay down beside him, drawing the cloak over them to act as a blanket. 

Their foreheads touched as Merlin drew up his knees, covering their faces with the cloak and their breath mingled in the darkness. “Always believe in my faith in you and I will never waiver,” he promised, his breath ghosting over Arthur’s lips. “Never.” 

Arthur cupped Merlin’s cheek, stroking his thumb along the soft skin and drawing strength from Merlin as he whispered “thank you.”


End file.
